


Pray To Me...

by Mutant_Toad



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Heavy Petting, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Religious Fanaticism, Voyeurism, teenage romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mutant_Toad/pseuds/Mutant_Toad
Summary: What set off the Obscurial in the first place? He had managed to contain it most of his life, but what made him finally lose control enough to attract the attention of Percival Graves?In 1923, Mary Lou Barebone takes in a fourth adopted child. She is newly orphaned when her mother is killed. The state had intended on turning her out since she was sixteen, but Mary Lou, the gracious woman that she is, offered to take the poor thing in and help her repent for the life she assumes she must have lived under a single mother.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Credence's age, I am under the belief that he was 20 years old in 1926 when the movie takes place. So for this fic, he will be 17.

Credence couldn’t help but to stare. She was beautiful. He was sure she was close to his age. It didn’t help the impure thoughts he was having. He would have to pray for forgiveness for the image of his hands on her hips. She was dressed more modernly, but he was sure that would change. The drop waist skirt, her bare legs poking out from under the fabric, the strapped shoe with a slight heel, the immodestly low cut collar that showed a lovely amount of pale, soft, clean skin. He wanted to know if the exposed skin was as soft as it looked. Mama would beat him raw if she knew what he was thinking. It took a great amount of will to force his eyes away from her for fear of Mama seeing his gaze.

“Close your coat, Girl,” Mama’s stern voice ordered and she pulled her coat shut, blocking Credence’s gaze to her chest, “Credence, Chastity, Modesty,” she named her children, each one standing up straighter as she called them, “This is Constance. She’ll be joining our family,” he felt a tightening in his stomach. Most of the children that came here for food and sermons were lucky enough to not have to stay here. 

“Hello, Constance,” the three of them said in unison.

“H-hi…”

Mama’s hand popped her in the cheek. Not as hard as she usually hit. It was a warning, “We do not stammer.”

“Sorry, Ma’am,” her voice was soft, but trembling. 

Credence chanced a few seconds of looking at her again. Her coppery hair reminded him of a candle flame. It looked ever brighter as she pulled her coat closed more and it stood out against the black fabric, “Constance’s mother was a whore and she paid for her sins in death,” he watched her pull in her lower lip and bite it hard, “After sixteen years of exposure to such a wretched life style, we can only hope that Constance can repent for her own sins before it’s too late,” she was only a year younger than himself, he thought.

“How did she die?” Modesty asked without thinking.

Mama gave the youngest girl a look that sent a shiver down her small spine, “She was strangled by a man she was sinning with,” he watched as tears started to fill Constance’s eyes. He hoped she didn’t start to cry. Nothing angered Mama more than crying and weakness, “Let us pray that the same doesn’t befall her.”

He couldn’t imagine what sort of horrible thing she had done in her life to deserve having to come here. Mama hadn’t adopted any children in two years. Modesty had been the last one. Modesty was her ‘baby’ who could do no wrong, though Credence knew that she secretly threw away their leaflets. Chastity was her perfect lady who did her chores without question. Credence was her problem child. He always screwed up.

“The state would have turned her out due to her age, but I was gracious enough to take on the burden of caring for her. Chastity, you will be sharing your room with Constance. You will also teach her how to use the print press to make the leaflets. Credence, you will show her how to handle the kitchen and she will assist you in handing out the meals,” he was surprised she was putting her with him. Perhaps it was to help straighten him out a bit more. If he did poorly in teaching her, it would earn him more punishments, “And Modesty, she will come with you on leaflet handouts,” which meant the girl couldn’t throw away the papers, “Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said softly.

“Yes, Mama,” his two adopted sisters responded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she mimicked him.

“Good. Chastity, take Constance to your room and find her some decent clothing,” the stuff she was wearing would never be acceptable to Mama, “Modesty, Credence, back to your chores.”

They all nodded and went their ways. Modesty went to cleaning the chairs and tables before they opened the doors for dinner. Mama went back to her little office to finish penning her letters to various newspapers. He watched as Chastity lead his new sister up the stairs. He felt his breath hitch a little as her skirt fluttered around her knees and he got a full view of her soft, bare legs. God was going to punish him for the thoughts he had of how it would feel to run his fingers along her calves.

He was supposed to go to the kitchen and get started on the soup they would hand out with their leaflets to the children. But instead he waited till he heard Mama’s office door close and Chastity’s door close and he quietly moved his way up the stairs and towards his own room. It was small and the wall was shared with Chastity’s room. The two rooms had at one point been one large room, but it would have been inappropriate for him to share a room with her and Modesty’s room was far too small for his height. A thin wall was built to divide the room into two rooms. It was nearly bare, holding little more than his old bed and a wardrobe that was nearly empty. He had a small shoe box under his bed filled with newspaper clips that he liked reading.

Moving towards the wall, he hesitated for a moment before pressing his ear up against it. He could hear the two girls moving about the small room. It would be hard to manage two beds in there and he was sure Chastity was none the happy about it. 

“We wake at five and clean up in the bathroom down the hall. We each get ten minutes in the bathroom. Credence goes first, then me, then Modesty, and then you,” she was the newest, so she would have to go last for everything, “After morning prayers, we have breakfast and Mama gives us our chores for the day. Dinner is at five, with prayers before hand, we eat after we serve the children and give them their leaflets. Then evening sermon with Mama, bedtime prayers, and lights out at seven.”

He listened as Chastity gave the overview of their day to day lives. It wasn’t always like that. Sometimes Mama let them go out on their own for a few hours. Those were the times he looked forward to, “I understand...Is it always so strict?”

“Yes. We like it that way. You will take the bed by the window,” it was the drafty one. Chastity would keep the bed nearest the wall for warmth. It was her right the eldest child to get the warmer bed.

“What’s Mary Lou like? Is she always so...stern?”

“You’ll call her Mama or Ma’am. And yes. She is. It helps keep us in line with the Lord. A daughter of a whore wouldn’t know that though, but you’ll learn. If you don’t learn, well, Mama has ways of dealing with that,” he shuddered. He knew what those ways were all too well, “Get dressed and cleaned up. The clothes are mine and you’re a little taller than me, but they should do for now. Dinner will be soon. You’ll be helping Credence serve.”

“...Alright.”

He listened as Chastity left her alone in the room. He hoped she didn’t notice that he wasn’t in the kitchen right away. His ears were focused on the sounds in Chastity’s room. He heard Constance move about a bit before hearing the familiar creaking of a bed frame and then sobbing. Slowly, he moved to a different spot on the wall. It was a special spot. A place where the wall was even thinner and weaker. He’d tripped once and caught himself on the wall, but his finger had pushed a hole through a weak spot. He’d been too scared to tell Mama what he’d done and instead covered the hole with a leaflet. 

He removed it and peeked through. It was at just enough of a good angle that he could see Constant sitting on the bed as he knelt down awkwardly to look. He had spied on Chastity once or twice, but never in this manner. Those times had been to see if she knew when he’d done something he shouldn’t have. No, he wasn’t looking at Constance for that. He wanted to watch her. 

Her thin hands were covering her pretty face as she sobbed softly. He knew how she felt. He had cried like that many times over the years. He didn’t trust what Mama had said about her mother. He had no doubts that she was dead, but he doubted that she had been a whore. Constance, even crying, was beautiful. Perhaps not as pretty as some of the girls and women he had seen walking around near the expensive stores, but still pretty.

She sobbed for a moment or two longer, but finally wiped at her eyes with her coat and standing to get dressed. She was holding a familiar, wool dress. It was Chastity’s least favorite dress. She said it itched. Credence knew he shouldn’t keep watching as he saw her remove her coat. He knew for sure he was going to hell as he pressed closer to the wall and watched as she kicked her shoes off and her fingers started working at the buttons of her dress. 

A warm stirring between his legs brought new shame. He’d imagined girls several times. How it would feel to be held and hugged. To be kissed and touched. He wondered what a woman looked like undressed. He’d been punished for gazing a little too long at ads with women in short dresses and undergarments. He wondered if women really looked like that under their dresses. From what he was seeing as Constance slowly undressed, they were fairly accurate.

He held his breath as the dress finally slipped down her body. Her white step-in chemise made him realize what a horrible person he was. It had only happened a few times before, but he felt a familiar pressure between his legs. He needed to touch it. It would only take a few moments of self loathing to relieve it. For the first time, he’d be able to do it while actually seeing a woman. 

Her thin fingers ran the length of her body, touching her breasts and her stomach while straightening out the fabric. She pulled her long red hair over one of her shoulders and he reached down to unbuckle his belt. He had to be quick. She wouldn’t take long getting dressed and he couldn’t risk staying in here much longer. 

The sight of her small, perky breasts straining against the bra of her chemise urged him on as he slid his hand into the warmth confines of his pants and gripped the hardness tight. He rubbed his palm over the slick head and bit his lip to keep from groaning. She turned away and bent over to pick up the wool dress from the bed and he stroked hard and fast at seeing her bottom tight against the bottom of her underwear. 

He continued rubbing, feeling his sac tightening as he watched her pull the dress up over her hips and onto her arms. He would miss the sight of her bare arms and chest, but having got to see them at all was a nice memory. It would serve him well for months of feverish self touching in the dark of his bedroom at night. The longer he watched, the more he hated himself. God hated him.

Finally lowering his head, he groaned softly as he released into his hand. His hips twitched a little and he slowly pulled his hand free of pants, looking at the puddle of sticky white in his fingers with disgust. Credence loathed how weak he was. He barely knew her. He had only just met her and he was already giving into temptation. He was a lech. 

He turned his eye back to the peep hole and realized she was gone. He hadn’t even heard her leave the room, “Lord forgive me…” he muttered pathetically.


	2. Chapter 2

“Everyone grab your leaflets before you get your food,” Chastity always had to remind them. Modesty helped hand out the papers as the children filed in to get bowls of soup. For many of them, this was the only meal they got. It made them easy targets for the Second Salem preaching. If they wanted to eat, they had to read the leaflets, sit through the sermons, and hand out the leaflets. If they didn’t, they would be turned away till they behaved.

Chastity made sure every child had a stack of papers in one hand before Modesty assigned them a seat at the tables. They would then move to the serving counter where Credence and Constance would dish out bowls of warm soup. It wasn’t the best tasting, but it was better than having nothing at all.

The two older teens made sure that everyone only got one bowl and didn’t try to sneak seconds or steal someone else's. Once the children were served, it was their job to start cleaning and have it done by the time the sermon started.

Credence carried the large, but nearly empty, soup pot back into the small kitchen where Constance was readying the sink water, “They ate nearly all of it tonight,” he said softly. He had trouble speaking normally when he was close to her. It didn’t help that in the two weeks she had been here, he had touched himself every night to the memory of seeing her undergarments. During prayer time, he would ask God for forgiveness, but he knew forgiveness was only truly given if one didn’t intend on doing what they were asking forgiveness for again, “There is enough left for Modesty, Chastity, and you,” it wouldn’t be the first night he went without dinner.

“You have to eat, Credence,” her voice was always so sweet sounding. It made his stomach flutter, or it would if it didn’t hurt from the thought of going without food, “You’re the man of the house, you have to eat,” at least that was what Mama said. That he was the man and he had to learn to act like one. As it was, she said he was a pathetic excuse for a man.

“I will be okay…” he wouldn’t let any of them go without.

She came over and helped him pour the last of the soup into three small bowls. They would get to eat soon, “We can share. A little is better than none.”

In two weeks, he had learned very little about her. Modesty liked talking about her family before they had died. Chastity kept closed off and seemed content that way. Credence didn’t remember his life before coming here. He knew she had wanted to talk. They were close in age and it made sense that she would want to be close with him, but he didn’t trust himself to be close with her. All he would think about was how good it would feel to break every commandment about being with a woman that was in the bible.

“Mama will get upset if she finds out.”

“Then we better make sure she doesn’t find out,” she smiled sweetly and he felt his stomach tingle again.

There were several times she would start to bring something up, but he would always find a reason to excuse himself. He didn’t want to get to know her more. It would make it harder to control his thoughts. The few things she did say made him want her more and made him think about her more. Like offering him the soup and telling him that they would have to make sure Mama didn’t find out. They would have a secret together.

She didn’t want for him to answer. She brought the bowl over to him and held a spoonful to his mouth, “Eat. Please.”

Hesitantly, he opened his mouth and allowed her to spoon feed him the soup. It pressed against a deep need inside of him to be cared for. To have someone hold him, love him, and care for him. She even smiled a little as she made him take another bite. He was sure to anyone else it was a sorry site. A man his age letting a girl feed him like a child. He couldn’t find it in him to care though. Instead, he just kept his eyes on her face as she took care of him.

Her long, copper colored hair was pulled back and styled much the same way Chastity’s was. Her cheeks were rosy from where she had cleaned up before dinner and had scrubbed her face. Despite the sad way they lived, she managed to keep a little bit of warmth in her blue eyes. It made him feel good to know that Mama hadn’t completely broke her yet. He wondered how long it would take before she was as dead eyed as Chastity.

He realized that she had given him nearly the whole bowl and he took a step back, finally realizing what they had been doing. Mama would beat him in front of all the other children if she had seen them like that, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ate so much. You need to eat.”

Constance shook her head lightly before going over to the two other bowls. She spooned some from Chastity’s bowl, but left Modesty’s alone. The youngest should get the most, or rather needed the most, “No one has to know. It’ll be our little secret.”

It made him tingle a little when she said that. They had a secret. It seemed little, but it was still a secret and one that could get them both punished. To Mama, there were no small mistakes. Everything was deserving of punishment equally. The thought that they had a secret together now made the corner of his mouth twitch a little. It was the closest he’d come to a smile in a long time, “Thank you…” he said lightly.

“Come on. Let’s get the dishes cleaned.”

He nodded fast and grabbed for the pot again, stumbling a little as his legs felt like jelly. He dunked it into the lukewarm water as she started pouring boiling water from the stove into it to reheat the sink water. They had done the dishes together several times, but he always pretended like she wasn’t there. It was hard to ignore her this time though. All he could think about was sitting on his bed with her. His head on her chest and her arms around him. Just holding him, stroking his hair, and telling him how good he was. Making him feel like he was worth something. That he meant something to someone, anyone.

As usual, they worked silently. He would chance a few glances at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking. She seemed focused on her work. Likely because they were behind schedule due to her having fed him. Without meaning to, he felt his fingers brush against her hand under the water and his face warmed up, “I’m sorry…” he muttered.

“It’s alright,” her response was more shaky than usual. Credence told himself it was because she was embarrassed. They had never really touched before, “...I don’t mind,” she added and he felt that tingle in his stomach again. Something in his brain told him that she wanted the same thing he did.

Credence had seen, and been jealous of, the young couples he saw around the city. Boys and girls their age sitting together on benches in the park. Holding hands and kissing. Boys surprising their girls with flowers and candies. The girls getting excited and hugging them in front of everyone. A man going down on his knee and asking a woman to marry him and how happy it would make them both look. He wanted those things too.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and hated how much of a coward he was. Mama would never allow them to be together. They were only family by name, but she would never believe him if he asked to have any kind of relations with Constance. Mama would beat him and call him a pervert. She’d say that they had both already sinned together, even if they hadn’t. He wasn’t even brave enough to keep it a secret as she had with the soup. Mama allowed them each one afternoon a week when they were allowed to be on their own and he could have asked to spend time with her without Mama knowing; but he was too pitiful to ask. The fear that he was wrong in thinking she wanted what he did kept him back.

Neither of them spoke anymore as they finished the dishes. They both ignored it if their hands or fingers touched in the water.

They finished drying the pots as Modesty and Chastity came in with the bowls from the other children. The two girls sat down to eat their food while Constance and Credence went about cleaning the bowls, “There’s less than usual,” Chastity commented as she picked up her bowl and Credence felt his face getting warm. A look at Constance and the small smile on her lips made him feel good. They had done something wrong together. As much as he hated himself for it, he knew that it would feed into whatever fantasy his mind came up with tonight while he pleasured himself.

“The soup boiled a little longer than usual. Some of it must have steamed out,” Constance lied as she dipped the dirty bowls into the sink.

It would be difficult to get through the sermon tonight. All he would be able to think about is her. While he would normally go sit in the park on his free afternoons, he knew that the three girls would leave as well. That would leave the house empty and he could be alone in his room. He would be free to touch himself and try to relieve his fantasies and frustrations for a while.

They finished cleaning the bowls and the three girls finished their meal before they all cleaned up to sit through Mama’s sermon.

They sat in the front row with children and parents filed in behind them. If they wanted their children to continue receiving free dinners, it was required that they attend one or two sermons a week with their children. Other than her anti-witchcraft lectures, Mama mostly just preached from the bible. Chastity sat on the outside of the row with Modesty next to her. A bible sat between Modesty and Credence. Leaving a bit of a space. Constance sat next to him.

Her hands folded in her lap and her eyes facing forward as they listened. It was hard to keep his eyes from glancing at her once in awhile. He gripped the knees of his pants tightly as he tried to focus on what Mama was saying. It was about forgiveness. About how the lord would forgive all, but only if we truly mean to be forgiven. If someone continued to do the thing they wanted to be forgiven for, then they could not be forgiven. Did Mama know what he had been doing every night? No. He was sure she didn’t. If she did, she would have punished him by now.

Credence sat up straighter as he felt something touch the side of his leg. It was Constance’s leg. She had shifted her weight and moved closer to him. Her outer thigh was pressed up against his. Every time she moved, even the slightest movement, he felt a shiver go up his spine. He tried hard to tell himself that she wasn’t doing it on purpose. Not so close to Mama.

But what if she was doing it on purpose?

Nervous and scared, he slowly moved his hand. He just barely touched her thigh with the tips of his pinky and ring finger. He heard her breath hitch softly and he realized he had assumed wrong. At least till he felt her fingers touch his just a bit before they both pulled away. He scooted closer to the bible on the pew seat and she moved away from him.

Credence was sure of it now. She had feelings for him. Even if they were just barely there, they were still there. She needed some kind of closeness and so did he. They could take care of each other.

He felt his stomach tighten though as he heard Mama’s voice continue to preach. Nothing would ever get to happen. Mama would make sure of it.

In the end, he knew that it didn’t matter what they wanted. Mama would get the final say and she would never let him have anything to do with Constance. He was a failure and she would be groomed to take Chastity’s place when Chastity eventually took Mama’s place.

He ignored and suppressed the bubbling anger in his gut as he thought about it.


	3. Chapter 3

It was well past midnight and he had managed to find sleep after his usual self-abuse to lull him unconscious. He hadn’t been able to work up the courage to ask Constance to spend the afternoon with him several days ago, even after she had responded so favorably to his touch to her leg. Instead, he closed himself up in his room and pretended to not be feeling well. Mama had made him take horrible tasting medicine, but he didn’t complain. It kept everyone away from him for the day. When he could have been out walking in the park with Constance, he was instead sitting in his bed and touching himself.

Since she had come here, he had made use of the peep hole several times. He hated himself everytime he did it, but not enough to keep him from doing it. She always went to bed before Chastity. That meant he could watch her undress and dress into her night gown.

She always started with her shoes and stockings. She would stretch her legs out and run her fingers down her calves for a moment before starting to unbutton her dress. Mama had got her several dresses in her size. All wool, black, grey, mid-calf length, and thick. Nothing like the flowy, modern dress she had worn when she first came here. He knew she hadn’t got rid of her old dress. He’d seen her take it out twice. It was hidden under her bed in a small box. She’d look at it for a moment and then tuck it back away.

He’d touch himself as she pulled her dress off and straightened out her undergarments. Somehow, Credence managed enough strength to look away when she’d take the chemise off. He’d never be able to focus on anything again if he saw her body completely bare. It was hard enough as it was. He didn’t need that. Usually by the time he looked back up, she was in her nightgown and sitting on the bed. Her fingers would pull her hair from the ties Chastity put in it and brush it out. He liked watching her finger brush her hair. Even with the harsh soaps Mama provided, it still looked soft and feathery.

Credence would finish, usually, just as Chastity was coming in their room for the evening. He would cover the hole back up and get himself ready for bed. He would usually touch himself at least once more before falling asleep.

He was roused from his sleep by the sound of Constance’s soft voice calling his name. He thought it was part of the dream at first, but the dream hadn’t been pleasant. They were rarely pleasant. Credence rarely remember his dreams, but they never left him feeling good. There was always some kind of dark cloud that seemed to mist over his thoughts when he tried to remember his dreams.

“Credence…” he cracked open his dark eyes and saw her standing over him. Her copper hair glowed a little in the moonlight that came in through the window. Her face looked flushed, even though the room was cool.

“Constance...what are you doing?” Mama would beat them both if she found them in here together. It didn’t matter what the reason was. He wasn’t allowed in their room and they weren’t allowed in his room. It wasn’t appropriate.

“I don’t feel well,” she said softly as he started to sit up. The blanket fell down his body, revealing the long, white nightshirt he had to wear. He knew men didn’t wear them anymore. It was old fashioned and he knew he would be warmer and more comfortable in the pants and long sleeve pajama shirts he had seen in stores. Mama made him wear these though.

He rubbed his eyes a bit as he made his eyes focus from sleep, “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you go to Mama?”

“...She would be upset if I woke her. I don’t want to wake her if I’m not sick enough,” he’d been through that. He’d woken up with minor fevers and gone to her in the delusional hope that she would hug him, give him medicine, and tuck him in. Instead, she would take his temperature, tell him to man up, and send him on his way back to his cold room. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t remember in the morning and punish him for disturbing her sleep, “Can you feel my forehead? It feels hot to me.”

She could have woke Chastity, but he knew that the eldest sister would be just as upset as Mama and likely tell Mama about it. Modesty was too young to be of help. If she really did have a fever, she wouldn’t be able to tell herself with her own hand. She needed someone and had come to him, “Okay.”

She knelt down on the floor next to him and he was glad he was too sleepy to realize how close to his waist her face was. He settled his feet on the floor before reaching over and resting his palm against her forehead. It was warm and clammy. Where he had feigned sickness days ago, she really was ill. Mama would blame him. She would say that he hadn’t been careful enough and got her ill. It wouldn’t matter that she had likely gotten sick from one of the children that came in for dinner or when she had gone out for her free afternoon.

“You’re warm, but not too warm. No reason to wake Mama,” so far, Constance had only received one belt whipping and a handful of cheek pops, “I’ll get you some water.”

She nodded lightly as he got up and moved quietly from the room. He could have made her go get it herself, but he knew where all the creaky floor boards were and how to get the cups down without clinking them against each other. Credence rubbed his eyes as he made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen. His mind was too clouded to take in what was happening, but there were no doubts that he’d remember it all clearly in the morning.

What he wasn’t prepared for was to see her sitting on his bed when he got back. She was sitting near the pillows, hands in her lap, hair over her shoulder, and just waiting. It helped to wake him up completely. He stared for a moment before walking across the room and holding the cup out to her, “Thank you…” she said softly before taking a drink.

Credence had fantasized about this before. About her being in his bed. Mama would be gone and she would come in asking him for something. When he’d come back, he’d find her laying out on his bed and ask him to lay with her. They would kiss and slowly start to touch. Her fingers would pleasure him the way he’d been doing to himself. She’d pant and moan for him. Saying his name with love and want. They would eventually make love. Giving themselves to each other for the first time. In his fantasies, it was always their first time. In his fantasies, nothing he did would disappoint her.

Realistically, he knew that was never going to happen.

She would drink her water and go back to her bed. Maybe she would thank him again. That would be it. God was never going to forgive him at this rate. He wished his life was different. Wished there was something he could do to change not only his life, but to change his relationship with Constance.

Pathetically, he wondered if the spot where she sat would smell like her when she left. God was going to punish him. He was going to hell for sure.

He stood quietly as she took slow sips. He wished she would just take it to her room, but he knew she couldn’t. Chastity would see the cup and she would get in trouble. He at least had a chance of hiding it till he could sneak it back to the kitchen, “Thank you…” she finally said. He expected her to get up and leave, but she didn’t. She sat on his bed, looking at him, and toying with the tips of her hair, “Thank you, Credence. It really means alot to me.”

“...I don’t mind…” he shifted nervously on his feet, staring down at the floor as she spoke.

“I’m sorry you were ill the other day. I was hoping...uh...I’d hoped you would have went out with me.”

His head shot up and he stared at her in amazement, “R-really?”

Constance bit her lower lip and he watched as she tugged her hair nervously, “Yes. I’ve been so lonely since my mother died. I know you don’t spend time with a lot of people,” he didn’t hide the fact that he was friendless. Even Modesty and Chastity had what could pass for friends. Most of the other children called him a freak, “I had thought we could spend some time together. I know no one wants to hear about me, but it would have been nice to just have someone to walk with."

Without thinking, he moved quick to sit on the bed next to her. He’d never felt like this before. She did want to spend time with him, “I don’t mind to hear you talk. I would like to hear about you,” not that he had made that very apparent before now. Anytime she tried to talk, he would always find a reason to leave.

She reached out and grabbed his hands with a small smile on her face, “Really? I’d like that. I just feel so lonely. Chastity won’t talk to me at all. Anytime I bring up my mom, she tells me that whores go to hell and if I want to avoid the same fate, I’ll learn to obey the Lord,” and Modesty was far too young to discuss those things with.

“You can talk to me,” in the privacy of his room where Mama wouldn’t find out so long as Chastity stayed asleep, “I’ll listen,” his heart was pounding hard enough that he could feel his blood rushing in his ears. Her slightly feverish hands felt nice against his. He wanted to turn his hands into hers and hold them, but he resisted. Instead, he pressed his hands against his lap to keep his arousal at bay.

“That would mean the world to me,” her voice was filled with relief. As if she had been holding back so much for so long, “I hate that everything thinks my mom was a whore. She wasn’t.”

Credence hadn’t believed that, “Mama says things the way she sees them,” which was a simple way to say that she lied.

Constance sniffed a little and looked down at their hands, “Dad left when I was little. I barely remember him. Mom’s family wouldn’t help us. They didn’t like that she got pregnant before she was married,” he had heard stories like that before, “She was such a good mom. She always took care of me. We never had much, but she made sure I never went hungry and I had clothes. We had a nice apartment. It was small and she slept on the couch, but we never minded that,” it sounded better than having their own beds here. Credence would give anything to remember his family. To know that at some point in his life, someone had been kind to him, “She worked two jobs the last few years. She wanted me to go to school again,” the only schooling he could remember was what Mama taught them. She’d never have the chance to go back to regular school again.

“She sounds nice…” he said softly.

“She was,” she lowered her head, leaning over and touching her head to his shoulder. He tensed and held his breath for a moment as she sobbed lightly, “I miss her so much.”

Slowly, he reached one of his hands up and touched it to the side of her head. Feeling her hair for the first time. It was as soft as he’d imagined. It slipped through his fingers and felt like silk, “How did she die? If you don’t want to say, you don’t have to,” she had obviously not been strangled as a prostitute.

“Her boss from the restaurant came to our house. He’d followed her home. Mom had complained about him before. Saying he was a handsy. He was drunk,” she sobbed again and he held her head tighter, mostly to try to muffle the sounds of her tears to keep it from waking Chastity, “I was asleep when I heard her scream. He was trying to rape her. I...I threw my shoe at him and he let her go. She fell and hit her head on the table. She didn’t...she didn’t get back up…” he felt bile rising in his throat and anger bubbling in his stomach, “When the police came, he said that that mom had ‘offered’ to sleep with him for money. He said that she gave me drinks to keep me asleep when she’d bring men home. He said that she fell while they were...together...and hit her head. They didn’t believe me. They believed him…”

Credence felt like throwing up. He could see why they wouldn’t believe a teenage girl over a business owning man, “I’m...I’m sorry…” he didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t like anything he said could bring her mother back. Selfishly, he wasn’t sure he would if he could. If she didn’t die, he wouldn’t have met her. He was sure if she had the chance, she would leave and likely forget all about him.

Was there nothing he could do or think that wasn’t horrible?

He didn’t get to think too much on it as a knock on his door made them both jump, “Credence, Boy, are you still awake?” it was Mama.

They both went wide eyed and he reached up to put a hand over her mouth gently, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I needed to use the bathroom,” he called out. Constance reached up and touched his hand, holding it against her mouth as he lied, “I’ll go right back to sleep. Promise, Ma’am.”

“...wretched boy…” he heard her mutter from the other side of the door and the floorboards creaked as she walked back to her room.

Only once he was sure she was back in her room did he lower his hand. His palm was warm from her breathing on it, “I’m sorry. I almost got you in trouble,” though he would get the worst of it, she would have been punished too.

“It’s alright.”

“I should get back to bed. Thank you, again,” slowly, she got up from the bed, but he still held her hand. He watched her bite her lip before she leaned down quick and pressed her lips to his cheek. For a moment, he forgot how to breath entirely. He’d never been kissed like that before, or in any way, “Good night.”

He continued holding her hand as she started to walk away. Keeping it against his till his arm was stretched out and he was forced to let her fingers slip away.  
Fingers still warm from having held hers, he reached up to touch where she’d kissed. It was warm too.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ma!” he screamed as the leather strap came down on his palms. He tensed and cringed, eyes squeezed shut tight and fighting off tears, “I’m sorry, Ma!” he cried, trying to keep the tears from leaking down his cheeks. He felt even worse as he saw Constance standing in her doorway with Chastity. She looked worried as Mama lashed his hands with his own belt.

He blamed himself for it. Mama had seen the cup in his room. They weren’t allowed to have stuff like that in their rooms. Mama said that she fed them plenty and they had no need to want for more. He had been too overcome by the kiss to his cheek and her confiding in him last night that he forgot to put the cup away before Mama woke up and inspected their beds to make sure they were made right.

It had been sitting on the windowsill.

“I’m not your Ma! What did you have in the cup?!” Mama snapped.

“Water, Ma’am. I swear, it was just water!” he pleaded. He could have told her that it was Constance’s cup. He could have told her that she had been feverish last night and needed a drink. It wouldn’t have spared him though. It would have just got her hands whipped too. It would be hard enough to do his chores with injured hands, they didn’t both need to deal with that pain.

“Gluttony is a sin! You pathetic boy!” it was nothing he hadn’t heard before. He always did something wrong. Even when he tried to do it right, it was always wrong. God hated him and Mama was his earthly punishment for that hate.

The belt came down on his hands once more before she dropped it at his feet, “I’m sorry, Ma’am. I’m so sorry…” he sobbed.

“Get cleaned up, all of you, now. Get to work.”

With that, Mama started down the stairs. Chastity and Modesty went back into their rooms to get dressed for the day. Constance started to walk over to him, but he shook his head fast and ran for the bathroom so he could cry in private. Mama would get upset if she saw Constance trying to comfort him and he didn’t want her to see him cry.

In the privacy of the bathroom, he knew the walls weren’t thick enough to muffle his sobbing, but at least no one had to see him. He sobbed as he sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at his raw hands. They were bloodied and old scars had been burst open. Whipping his hands caused more pain than the backside beatings. He could go most of the day without sitting, but he always needed to use his hands. 

It would hurt every time he touched a leaflet. It would hurt when he started getting the pots and bowls down for dinner. It would hurt when the salt for the broth spilled on his hands. It would hurt when he cut the vegetables and meat. It would hurt when he served it out. It would hurt when he had to sink his hands into scalding hot water and soap. It would hurt when he had to hold his bible for sermon and prayer. It would hurt when he undressed. And it would hurt when he thought about Constance and tried to please himself.

For days, he would be in pain till it healed over.

Slowly, he stood and moved towards the sink. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and found himself loathing every bit of himself. His puffy eyes, the tears on his cheeks, the blood on his lip where he’d bit it during the beating, and the way he couldn’t stop shaking, “I’m pathetic. I’m worthless,” he said to his reflection, “I don’t deserve anyone or anything. I could die and no one would notice,” he’d said these things before. It was nothing he hadn’t felt for years.

“I don’t deserve her. She needs a man. Someone that can take care of her. I’m a coward,” he sobbed before sinking down to the floor, “Lord, please, please forgive me. Please. Why can’t I be a better man? Why did you make me so pathetic? Lord, please help me…” he’d prayed for help before and it never came. He had no reason to believe that it would now, “I’ll do anything…” not that his offer of that had ever helped him in the past.

He stayed there on the floor till Chastity knocked on the door and demanded her time. 

For most of the day, he avoided everyone. Especially Constance. If she came in a room he was in, he would leave immediately without saying anything. He didn’t want to see pity in her eyes. 

Sadly, he couldn’t avoid her all day. It was time to get dinner ready and he was forced into the kitchen with her. They moved about silently till he hissed and groaned in pain as hot broth splashed the palm of his hand. It sent a throbbing pain all the way down to his toes. Constance rushed over with a cool, damp rag and grabbed his hand, “Please don’t…” he started, but she ignored him and touched the rag gently to his palm. It felt good, though it didn’t take the pain away completely.

“It’s the least I can do…” she said softly as she looked up at him. He was surprised that there wasn’t pity in her big, blue eyes. Instead, he saw sadness, “You should have told her it was mine.”

“Then we both would be in pain right now.”

“Don’t do that again,” she ordered, “Half the pain for each of us is better than you having to bare it all. Don’t try to protect me like that. Is that understood?”

Credence wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Why couldn’t she thank him and tell him how brave it was? Probably because he knew it wasn’t brave. It was just a cup, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again…” she said before dabbing at his hand again, “And thank you,” his eyes went up. She actually thanked him, “Please don’t do that for me again. I don’t want you in pain because of me.”

“I...I won’t,” not that he could actually promise that. He had done it for Modesty when she did something wrong. He would take it for them if he could, “She probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway though. She never believes me.”

Constance smiled softly before wrapping the rag around his hand, “You just worry about serving tonight. I’ll get another rag for your other hand. Sit,” she pointed to the chairs that they sat at to eat dinner.

He hesitated. If Mama decided to check on them and saw him sitting, she would beat him again and her this time, “I can’t…”

“I said sit,” she ordered and he immediately went for the chair this time.

She wrapped his other hand and went about making the large pot of soup. No one came to check on them and he got to spend the whole time watching her. Seeing her move about and cook. A delusional fantasy popped into his mind. That he had just come home from a long day and she was making his dinner. Just their dinner. No one elses. She was cooking for him and they would clean up together before going to bed. He’d kiss her hand, his lips passing over her wedding ring as they climbed under the warm blanket together and made love. At some point, he knew he’d have to find a way to stop the fantasies completely. It was getting harder and harder to be near her.

“Time to serve,” she smiled as she grabbed up a stack of bowls.

“Wait…” he stood up and stopped her for a moment, “Maybe...maybe next week we...we can spend some time together,” for their afternoon off, but he felt that was implied, “We could just stay here and talk or we could go walk,” he hadn’t felt this type of courage before. Her gentle caring about his hands, the kiss, her need to confide in him, and her thanking him made him feel good. Better than he could remember ever feeling before, “If you’d like, of course…?”

He watched as Constance’s cheeks turned red. She lowered her eyes bashfully and he felt warmth in his stomach, “I’d like that a lot.”

The pain in his hands didn’t matter anymore, “That’s wonderful…” he said softly as he went to pick up the soup pot. All he could think about was spending more time with her. Private time. Just the two of them together. He knew he’d think too much into it tonight while he was in bed. Likely that their afternoon alone together would end with feverish kisses and touches. It was well beyond the scope of possibilities, but his mind wouldn’t care about that. He wouldn’t care about the pain it caused his hands now that he knew he’d actually be with her. Even if it was just for talking.

While he always looked forward to his afternoons alone, he found himself more eager than ever before. He had plans. Real plans. 

Like a normal person.


	5. Chapter 5

Credence managed to keep how giddy he was a secret. Mama would never tolerate him being that happy. She would beat him something fierce for it. He had to pretend like he still had nothing to look forward to. Even when the truth was that he had something very nice to look forward to. Even if all they did was sit somewhere and she cried about her mother, he would never feel happier than to be with another person. Talking like friends, family, or lovers. Same as anyone else in the world. He could be someone special for her. A confidant for her.

When the day finally came, he found himself to be excited and nervous at the same time. They hadn’t discussed it any further. He was worried if he brought it up, then he might appear too eager and scare her off. She didn’t need to know how excited he was any more than she needed to know that he came into his hand nightly at the thought of her lips on his cheek or seeing her in her undergarments. 

He prayed every day to find the strength to overcome his impure thoughts, but it only seemed to be getting worse. 

Modesty was the first to leave for the afternoon. Off to play with the other children. Chastity left next, but no one really knew where she spent her time. Credence had a theory that she went to a church several blocks away. Then Mama left for her usual business. She had to spread the word. By lunchtime, it was just them alone in the house that doubled as their Second Salem church.

He waited, nervously, for some time in the pews, but she never came down from her room. It took a lot to work up the courage to head up to her room and knock on the door. Perhaps she was ill again. Credence didn’t know what he’d do if she changed her mind, “C-Constance? Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” his heart sank a little. He was scared she was going to make him leave, “Is Mama still here?” her voice was low, obviously not wanting to be heard by anyone else.

“No. It’s just us.”

“Oh good,” he stepped back as he heard footsteps and the door suddenly opened, “I was worried she would never leave.”

Credence had a hard time looking away from her. He was in awe. She was wearing the dress she’d wore when she first came here. The same shoes too. Her hair was wavy and her lips were bright red. She had shimmery shadow on her eyelids and she was no longer wearing the thick, black stockings; instead her legs were bare again. She looked like one of the girls in the magazines Mama would beat him for looking at too long on the newsstand, “What’re...What’re you wearing?”

She smiled and giggled softly, “We’re going out. I want to look nice. I can’t stand those wool dresses. They itch something fierce. What? Do I not look nice?” she sounded genuinely concerned.

“No. I mean...yes. I mean...you look beautiful,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he admitted it, “Why would you want to dress up for me?”

“It’s not for you,” which made his heart sink, “I just want to feel like me again. Just for a little bit,” at least it wasn’t for other people. That made him feel a little better. She wanted a piece of her old life back. Even if it was just a dress and some makeup.

“You won’t...you won’t be embarrassed to be seen with me?” he didn’t look near as nice.

“Why would I be embarrassed?”

“I look…”

He didn’t get to finish. She reached out and pressed a finger to his lips before moving her hand down to his thin tie and fixing it a bit, “You look handsome,” he felt light headed. He thought about what it was going to be like to walk down the street by her side. Maybe she would put her arm around his. 

“Y-you mean that?”

She smiled again, “Of course. You have such handsome eyes too, Credence. I couldn’t be embarrassed by you.”

He couldn’t help himself. As badly as he wanted to walk around with her, hold hands with her, and talk with her; he just wanted to be touched. All of his desires and needs flooded over him at once. She was too nice and too sweet. She was nothing like any of the other women in his life. Mama and Chastity were so cold and harsh. They never smiled. Constance smiled for him. 

He’d never kissed a girl before. He moved quick to put his hands around her waist and lean down. His lips came down on her’s fast and hard, it hurt a little. It still felt good though. Her lips were soft and warm. He didn’t care if Mama or Chastity saw them. He’d gladly take the punishment for it. All that mattered right now as her mouth against his. He’d never thought he’d have the courage to do this, but Constance made him feel like he could do so much more than he ever realized he could.

Her hands went to his shoulders and he was scared she would push him away, but she didn’t. Her body relaxed after the surprise and her fingers even closed around the coat cloth of his shoulders. He wondered if she had ever kissed a guy before now. He wanted to believe that she hadn’t. That he was her first. They were both still young and she had already admitted that she hadn’t been to school in a while, so it was easy to imagine that she hadn’t had much interaction with men before him.

Against his wants, she pulled away, “Oh, Credence,” his name was said with a tone he wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t harsh or angry in the least, but it was more than sweet. It was heavy and almost needy. He hadn’t heard anything like it before, but he knew he wanted to hear it again, “Credence…” the tone was gone. Replaced with her normal voice.

“Please...I don’t want to stop…” he pleaded softly, “...I’m lonely…”

“I know you are…” she slid her hands over his shoulders gently. Massaging them lightly, “I am too. We should talk about this though.”

Credence didn’t want to talk, “Why can’t we talk later?” he wanted to kiss again. It had felt so wonderful.

“That’s not the way it works, Credence. We have to talk first. It’s a beautiful day outside. Let’s go outside and talk. Sit in the sun and enjoy it.”

Something inside him urged him to kiss her again. To make her take his lips on her own and let their warmth fill his body. She had kissed back. They needed each other. Talking would just waste time, “I don't want to go outside.”

Credence pulled her close and tried to kiss her again. The response was much less favorable this time. She gasped, “Credence stop!” and if that wasn't enough, her hand came down across his cheek with a hard cracking sound.

He stumbled back, hitting the railing where Mama liked to do her beatings, with his hand on his stinging cheek. His dark eyes were wide as saucers as he realized what he'd done, “I'm...Constance, I…” he felt hot tears in his eyes, “I'm so sorry,” he finally got out before sinking to the floor and huddling against the wooden rails and curling up, “I’m so sorry,” he felt the tear stinging his eyes and he couldn’t help them falling down his cheeks as he buried his face against his arm. Mama was right. He was a pathetic failure as a man.

He twitched hard as he felt her hand touch his hair. It stroked down slowly and she forced him to tilt his head up so she could cup his slap-warmed cheek. He was scared she would hit him again, “I’m sorry…” he stammered out softly.

“Credence,” her voice was soft, “It’s alright. I’m sorry I hit you.”

“No. I’m pathetic. I’m so sorry. Why-Why would you...want me? I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise,” he sobbed softly, refusing to open his eyes or look at her.

“Stop it,” she didn’t say it harshly. It was calm and soothing. She was trying to calm him down, “You’re not pathetic. Dear lord, what has she done to you…” she was talking about Mama, he was sure of it. His breath stopped as he felt her arms closing around him. He felt himself being pulled against her, his head burying against her chest. The warmth of her body washing over him. It felt good. Better than even kissing her had.

Since he was little, all he ever wanted was for someone to hold him. No one ever would, “I’m sorry…” he continued to mutter, though at least the stuttering stopped.

“I’m sorry too, Credence. I shouldn’t have slapped you, but I told you no,” perhaps not exactly in those words, but she had made it clear that she had wanted to talk first, “Will you look at me?”

Slowly, nervously, he lifted his head as they parted just a bit. He was sure his eyes were puffy and red. They always were when he cried. He felt ashamed of himself. Terrified by what he’d done. He had tried to force himself on her. Like that man who had killed her mother. What had he been thinking? God must have thought him a wretched creature. He was surely going to burn in hell one day, “I hate being alone…”

Constance smiled softly at him, “I know you do. I do too,” she reached up and stroked down his wet cheek, “I want to get to know you, Credence. I want us to know each other.”

He didn’t want her to know him. He was pathetic and weak. She’d hate him. He just wanted to get to the point where they could be physically close like this whenever they could, “You won’t like me. No one likes me.”

He groaned lowly as she leaned in and kissed his lips softly for just a bare moment, “Don’t say that,” he turned his head and tried to catch her lips again, but she brought her finger to his mouth and stopped him, “Come on. I want to show you something,” she started to stand, her hand wrapping around his arm and tried to bring him up to his feet.

“Wh-where are we going?”

“Somewhere special.”

Credence wanted to say no. He wanted to go hide in his bedroom and find ways to forget how badly he’d messed things up. He didn’t like surprises, mostly because they were never good. It was just another way God hated him. Constance was brought here to taunt and tease him. To be something he wasn’t supposed to be able to touch. She had started to get close and God made him do something to push her away again. This ‘somewhere special’ was another trick. A ploy to make him feel wanted again, but he knew something would happen, “...no...we shouldn’t...this was a mistake…”

“Nonsense. I won’t take no for an answer,” she tugged him hard and he stumbled a little, forced to go where his arm was being taken. He was used to doing things he didn’t want to do and bad at not doing the things he wasn’t supposed to do, “Come on,” not that he had much of a choice as her fingers dug into his arm and started pulling him down the stairs, “Before Mama comes back.”

That got him moving. If Mama came home and saw them stumbling down the stairs together with her dressed as she was, they would be black and blue for a week.

Constance peeked out the door for a moment before pulling him along. He realized she had been checking to make sure the wrong people didn’t see them leaving together. It was a nice day outside. Cloudy, but warm. It had rained the night before and the streets and sidewalks were still wet. He liked it when it was cloudy out like this. Bright, sunny days were uncomfortable for him. The cool breezy ruffled her hair and he had to force himself to look away rather than looking at her.

He let her lead him down the streets, going several blocks from their home before she slower her pace, “Where are we going?” he didn’t like not knowing where he was. He had been in this area before, but he couldn’t figure out why she would be taking him here. It was a shopping area. Credence generally avoided it. He didn’t like seeing all the clothing and things he couldn’t even dream of having. The scents of foods he couldn’t eat upset him. And he didn’t like they way people looked at him. Like he was vermin. 

Even now, as Constance slowed her pace and started walking next to him, her hand still on his arm, he felt like people were looking at them. What was a girl who looked like her doing with someone like him? 

“My favorite place,” was all she said as she slipped her arm around his, hooking their elbows together. Nervously, he reached over and set his hand atop hers. She didn’t pull away. As scared as he was at how badly this could all end, he didn’t want to stop it.

Credence wasn’t sure how long they walked, but they crossed several streets and he realized they were fairly far from the Second Salem house. It was a poor neighborhood, but still nice. The brownstones were old and several generations of families lived in each one. Even though it was a school day, most of the kids of school age were running about playing. Parents were likely at work and unable to make sure their kids behaved. 

She lead him to a small, neighborhood park. It was mostly a swing set, a duck pond, and some trees. There was bits of trash hanging around and the weeds hadn’t been pulled in quite some time. One of the swings hung dangling by one chain. The pond was devoid of ducks, but there was an old man who stood by it and continued to throw in stalled bread that just wet and sank to the bottom. It was a sorry sight, but it was better than most had.

“Mom and I used to live over here,” she pointed past the park to a small section of brownstones.

He was surprised to hear that, “Oh?”

“Mom didn’t like me coming here when she was at work. She was always worried I’d get hurt, but I would sneak out anyway,” she smiled as she lead him over to one of the two benches and sat down. It was nicely shaded by a tree, “Mrs. Hicks,” she pointed to an old woman who was walking up to the bread throwing man, “She loves Mr. Collins. Always has, but she’s married. So she comes down here to yell at him every day for feeding the ducks, because she says it scares away her squirrels,” he watched as the woman started talking to the man. She said a few words and then threw her hands up in the air before slowly walking off, “And he loves her, so he pretends to feed the ducks, even though there never are any, and lets her yell at him. That way he can follow her and they can talk for a few minutes,” as she said, the elderly man followed after the older woman, “Then they pretend to feed the squirrels together for about ten minutes before her husband comes down and she says he scared them off. Then they do it again in a few days.”

They both watched as it all happened. He wanted to be upset that this Mrs. Hicks was emotionally connecting with someone other than her husband. It was inappropriate. But he found it hard to judge when he was touching himself every night while watching her undress without her permission.

“Wait here…” she said with a smile before getting up quick and leaving him on the bench before he could say anything. A sense of dread filled his stomach as he thought that she was abandoning him here. He clenched his fingers on the knees of his pants, staring down at the ground as he waited. He told himself if she wasn’t back in ten minutes, then he would go home. He’d never forgive himself for having been stupid enough to think she wanted to spend time with him.

Credence was lost in his own dark thoughts of abandonment when she came back and sat down next to him. He jumped a little and felt his cheeks get warm, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” she smiled and he felt the tightness in his stomach relax. She’d come back. It meant the world to him.

“It’s alright…” he said softly before looking down at her hands. She was holding a bright yellow and black checkered wrapped item. It said ‘Abba Zaba’ on the front in large letters, “Wh-what’s that?”

“Abba Zaba bar,” he could read that, so it didn’t really tell him anything, “It’s candy,” Mama never let them have candy, “It’s taffy with peanut butter,” he’d never had either of those things.

“Where did you get it?” he would have tried candy on one of his days like this before, but Mama never let them have any money. She said she provided for them and they had no need for coins of their own.

“I stole it,” to which his eyes went wide and she giggled, “I’m joking. I bought it. Mama might not let me have any money, but I had a little of my own in my coat. It’s the last of it, so no more candy for me, I guess,” to which she sounded a little sad, “Will you share it with me?”

He nodded quick and she scooted closer to him as she started opening the candy bar. He was excited to get to try it, “Yes.”

Constance started pulling it from the wrapped, “Credence, can you tell me something about yourself?”

“...there’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing at all?” she looked up and managed to catch his gaze awkwardly, making him feel sheepish, “How old were you when Mary Lou adopted you?”

He shrugged a little, hunching his shoulders over and starting to close up a little, “I was six.”

“Do you miss your parents?” 

He shrugged again, “I don’t really remember them,” which even he knew was strange. Modesty remembered her family and she was younger than him when she lost them, “I know it’s strange,” it always made him feel sick when he tried to think about it, “Can we talk about something else?”

She nodded and held the sticky candy bar up, “You have the first bite,” she brought it to his lips and he felt warm again, like when she’d fed him the soup. Slowly, he opened his mouth and took a small bite. It was sticky, but creamy. The sweetness is what got to him the most. He couldn’t remember ever tasting anything like it. A low groan escaped his throat and she smiled again, “Like it?”

“Yes. Very much,” and he did. It was the best thing he’d ever ate. He didn’t even hesitate as she offered it to him again. Once more, he didn’t care how it looked for him to being fed by someone else. It made him feel good.

Constance finally took some for herself and chewed it quietly for a few minutes, “I want to kiss you again, Credence,” the confession caught him by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise for once, “But…” there was a but, “...I want to know something about you. Something just about you that no one else knows,” she reached over and touched his hand lightly, to which he turned his hand and brushed his fingers against her palm before pressing his hand against hers, “Please, Credence. Anything.”

He swallowed the last bit of his candy bite. What was he supposed to tell her? He had nothing in his life. He woke up, did his chores, and went to sleep. He had no friends, no family, and no hobbies. The only book they were allowed to read was the bible and Mama’s leaflets. Though it wasn’t the only thing he read. Mama didn’t like them reading newspapers, but she couldn’t stop them, “I...I like reading the newspaper. Mama doesn’t like it, but I keep stories under my bed.”

He looked up to see happiness on her face. She was pleased with him, “What kind of stories?”

A small flush came to his cheeks again. He couldn’t admit that he sometimes kept ads with girls, “I like stories from different place. People writing about places they’ve seen,” he knew he’d never get to leave the city. People came into New York every day like it was someplace special, but he just wanted to leave.

“I like those too,” she leaned her head over and touched it to his shoulder.

It was hard to keep his breath from coming quicker. He felt the familiar warm stirring between his legs and he was ashamed of himself, “I...I...Uh…” he wanted to excuse himself, but where would he go? 

“We can kiss again, if you’d like, Credence.”

He felt his heart leap and his stomach tingle, “C-Constance, have you...have you kissed anyone before?” he didn’t know why he was asking. Anything other than him being her first kiss would just upset him. 

“Just one person before you,” it was the answer he didn’t want to hear, “I thought I liked him, but he was just mean. We were stupid about it anyway. It was just once,” at least it was just once. He’d kissed her once and he was going to do it again. She wanted him to do it again. Credence tried to tell himself that meant something, “Does that upset you?”

“A little…” he admitted, “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not sorry I did it, Credence. It might have been stupid, but it was my mistake to make,” he felt his jaw clench a little, but she reached up and touched his cheek, “Just kiss me, okay?”

Her lips tasted like the candy bar they were sharing. It was warm again. Soft and sweet. It was a little awkward, but only because they kept trying to move their heads the same way or their teeth would hit a little when they would both try to lean in at the same time. That didn’t matter though. Her fingers touched his cheek and he hesitantly reached over to touch her waist. They kissed slowly for a few minutes before pulling apart. He wanted to lean in again, but he remembered the slap to his cheek.

“That was nice,” she said softly. 

“Can we...do that again?” he knew to get permission this time.

“Tell me one more thing about you.”

He didn’t understand why she wanted to know about him. He was boring and useless. There was nothing special about him, “...my favorite color is red,” it was the only thing he could think of. It wasn’t like he could wear anything red. Black, brown, white, and grey. Mama didn’t like bright colors like red. Especially red. It was the color of whores, the devil, and witches. The color of her hair and her lipstick.

“I like red too,” she moved in and pressed her lips against his again.

The kissing lasted longer this time. Their lips moved against each others slowly to start with, only getting more heated as they got used to each others movements. He closed his eyes and moaned softly as her fingers stroked the back of his neck and he felt his way along her waist and hips. He imagined her nearly bare body as she undressed at night. How her backside would strain against the fabric of her undergarments and how the cool, night air would make her breasts perky. 

When they stopped again, he was very much aware of how tight it felt in his pants. He shifted and tried to make the feeling go away, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said uncomfortably.

For a moment, he thought she was going to ask him again, but her eyes went a little wide as a nearby church rang its bells. He realized what was wrong too, “We’re going to be late.”

It was one thing to be late, but she still needed to change, “We can make it…”

They made it back in time, though only just barely. By the time Modesty, Chastity, and Mama were back; he had managed to wash her lipstick from his lips and she was dressed more properly. He was careful not to get too close to her that night. Not wanting to hint that they had enjoyed an afternoon together, much less that they had been kissing.


	6. Chapter 6

What pulled him from his room early that morning was a scuffling sound and a sharp scream. He was half dressed, having his pants and button up shirt on. He was fixing his belt when he heard it. He rushed out to see what was happening and saw Mama holding Constance by a ball of her red hair. He felt sick to his stomach as he saw it. 

“Filthy girl!” Mama snapped as she threw Constance down on the floor in front of his door, by the railing where she usually did her whippings. While Constance had received a few punishments, she had done little that she’d been caught for to deserve it. He looked over to see Chastity standing in their door with her arms folded and her lips pursed tight. One day, it would be her doing this to her own children, “Wicked girl, just like your mother!”

“Ah!” Constance cried out as Mama brought her hand down across her face. It sent her sprawling to the floor in a puddle. He heard her sobbing softly and his whole body twitched. He wanted to rush over and grab her up in his arms, “I’m sorry!” she screamed as Mama grabbed a fistfull of her hair again and slapped her hard once more. 

Big tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face as Mama slapped her once again, “You want to be a whore like your mother!”

Fear gripped his stomach tight. Had Mama found out about them? They had been careful, at least somewhat. They kept to themselves and didn’t try to find time to be together other than what they were allotted. They would go out together on their free afternoons to the park by her old home and talk. She did most of the talking, but she refused to kiss him till he would say at least one thing about himself. They had only been out together twice since their first time, but it was already getting difficult to find things to tell her. 

But they had got careless the last few days. While Chastity and Modesty made sure the other children ate their soup and got their leaflets, when they should have been cleaning the dishes, they had started kissing. Their hands in the dish water while he leaned down and their lips pressed together. They knew they had anywhere from five to ten minutes before anyone would come in. It was exciting and it made him feel good. They had done that for nearly a week now.

Last night had terrified him beyond belief. They had been kissing heatedly when the door suddenly opened. They pulled apart fast and busied themselves with the dishes. It was Mama. She didn’t usually come in the kitchen till after the sermon.

She’d watched them like a hawk for several minutes before coming over and grabbing Constance’s chin and forcing her to look at her. She’d run her fingers over Constance’s lips and asked why they looked red. Asked if she was wearing makeup, like a whore. Constance said she wasn’t, that she had just burned her lip on a bit of hot soup. She did the same to him. Grabbing his face and inspecting his kiss swollen lips, demanding to know what had happened to them. He wasn’t nearly as good at lying as Constance. He said he didn’t know what was wrong and maybe he got bit by something.

Credence was sure this was his fault. 

His attention was brought back to the present as he heard her scream in pain again as Mama slapped her even harder. She fell back to the floor as Mama released her hair. She pulled a little silver tube from her pocket and held it up. It was lipstick, “Where did this come from?!” Mama demanded to know. She must have inspected her room. She wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t suspect something. Credence assumed Mama found the box where she kept the clothing from her previous life.

“It was my moms! I just wanted something of hers! I swear! I don’t wear it!” she lied. She wore it every time they went out. Credence liked looking in the bathroom mirror and seeing her lipstick smudged on his lips and the imprint of her lips on his cheek before he had to wipe it away.

“Liar! I found the tissues you clean it off with,” it didn’t surprise him that Mama would go looking even through trash to find what she wanted. Constance didn’t even try to defend herself. She just sobbed loudly, covering her face and huddling against the rails, “Credence!”

He jumped at the sound of his name, “Y-yes, Ma’am?”

“Give me your belt,” she ordered and he twitched a little. His eyes went to Constance as she turned her watery blue eyes up at him. Her eyes were begging him not to do it, but his hand twitched and he reached for the dangling belt clasp around his waist. It was to the point in his life that he didn’t even hesitate anymore when she made him give her his belt to beat him with, “What’re you waiting for, Boy? Give me the belt!” she snapped and he shook his head.

“N-n-no…”

Her eyes widened and her lips tightened. He heard Chastity shift behind him and he felt like an ant, “What did you say to me?”

“I...I...s-said...No,” his heart was pounding in his chest.

Mama moved slowly, getting close to him and he took a step back in fear. At the last moment, she moved her hands out fast to grab his belt buckle. She yanked it free and he stumbled back, falling back onto his backside and groaning in pain at the force of the fall. He watched as she folded it in half and gripped it tight, “How dare you…Both of you. Ingrates!”

She raised the belt and brought it down across his shoulder and he gasped in pain, “Get over here,” she reached down and grabbed his ear, dragging him across the floor and shoving him down next to Constance, “On your knees. Both of you. Now!”

“Ma, no…” he whimpered. He would take being hit across the hands over being whipped across his backside like a child.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not your ma?”

“Please, Ma’am,” Constance tried to plead with her, but he knew it was useless.

“On your knees, Whore. You want to dress like a whore, you’ll be beat like one.”

She tried to look at him. Looking for anything in his face, but he knew he wasn’t giving her what she needed. He was just as sorry and scared as she was. He wasn’t brave or strong. He couldn’t protect her, “On your knees. Now!” the longer they tried to put it off, the worse it would be.

Slowly, he turned to face the railings, to look down at the pews, and sat on his knees, raising his backside up a little. Constance whimpered and sobbed softly as she did the same. He wanted to reach out and touch her hand or brush the hair out of her face; but that would only anger Mama more. 

He gasped and reached out to grab the railing as he felt the belt come down on his lower back first, “Horrible wretches! Ungrateful!” Constance cried out next to him as he heard the snap of the belt hit her. She was still in her nightgown. At least he had his thicker pants on to help buffer it a little. If it went as usual, her nightgown would be spotted with bloodied streaks by the time it was done. He couldn’t think much on it as the belt came across his backside this time, “Dressing like a whore! Defying me! I feed you, shelter you, clothe you! And this is how you behave!”

He heard Chastity move quick as Modesty’s door opened. Even though she approved of what Mama did, the youngest of them was not yet old enough to handle it.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am!” Constance cried out as he heard the cracking sound of it coming down on her again. He closed his eyes tight, trying not to cry and to fight back the tears as the belt was on him again.

The whipping continued for nearly ten minutes. His whole body felt numb. His fingers gripped the rails so tight that the wood was starting to splinter. Constance was sobbing and whimpering pathetically next to him. She was barely able to take a breath without it shuddering through her whole body. There was a puddle of tears and mucus under her face as she rested her forehead on the railing. Mama wasn’t even saying anything more. She was just proving her point. Driving it home that she was in charge and would not be defied again.

When it was finally over, Mama dropped the belt at his side, “Get cleaned up and to your chores,” she ordered before walking off, leaving them on the floor.

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered out softly, too scared to look at her to see the disgust in her face that she must have for him.

“It’s not your fault…” she whispered.

They both sat there silently for a few minutes before he heard her starting to move. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more to her. He waited till he heard her limp her way into the bathroom before he moved. She had whimpered and gasped in pain the whole way to the bathroom. He tried to stand, but it hurt too much. Instead, he slowly crawled back to his room and pushed the door shut before collapsing down on his chest and sobbing again. 

Credence felt beyond pathetic.

He’d grabbed for happiness and was rewarded with pain for it.

How could she want him after this? 

Fresh, hot tears stung his eyes as he whimpered on the floor. Mama was right. He was pitiful. It’s why he didn’t have any friends, “God...please...forgive me…” he said those words before, but he meant it now, “Please help me…” he wanted help. Needed it. He loathed his life as it was. He wanted to be different. To be special.

He felt a bubbling inside of him and feared he was going to vomit. Mama would get upset if he had to clean up the mess. It wasn’t bile though. It felt heavy and cold. It made his vision cloudy. He’d felt this before, but it felt stronger now. As he desperately prayed and wished for a different life, he felt it growing stronger in his gut. It hurt, but it was powerful. It threatened to break free and he was terrified of what it was.

Credence, once again, pushed back at the feeling. He closed his eyes tight and pushed back at it.


	7. Chapter 7

The day had been rough. Mama had hit him harder than she ever had before. He was sure that she knew something had happened between himself and Constance. She may not have seen them kissing, but she would have had no other reason to snoop around the red head’s things if she didn’t suspect something. He was sure if she hadn’t found anything in her room, then she would have came to his next. If she had done that, the most she would have found was the pants he had soiled touching himself before going to bed that night and the newspaper clippings he kept. It would have earned him a beating, but not nearly as bad as what they had both received.

Every movement made his whole body ache with fresh pain. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry. That wasn’t an option though. No. Mama wasn’t done punishing them. He was made to polish the pews, tables, and chairs. All before dinner. He also had to dust the rafters, something Chastity usually did. Then he had to go make and serve dinner on his own. He only saw Constance once or twice and only in passing. Mama made her go out with Chastity to hand out leaflets. They were gone almost all day. Making her walk with her bruised, cut, and sore bottom all day.

When he did see her, he wanted to tell her that it would be okay. That the bruises would go away and that the cuts would eventually heal or scar. It made his chest hurt when he saw the large, dark purple bruise on her cheek from where Mama had slapped her. Everyone knew what happened to them here. No one cared though. Why would they? They weren’t important.

He crawled into his bed, hissing slightly as he settled onto the old mattress. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t ache. It would be this way for days. When he’d taken his pants and underwear off, there was blood on the seat of it all. It had hurt to pull the fabric away from his body. Reopening several of the wounds. He usually hated his nightshirt, but it felt nice this time. It was more open and it didn’t cling to his sore spots.

Even with the pain, he managed to fall asleep. His body was exhausted and that seemed to trump the pain. He didn’t even has his usual nightly fantasies about Constance. He was in too much pain and too tired to have pleasurable thoughts or feelings. He supposed that was the point. Mama always said their bodies were filthy things. Pleasurable feelings were a sin. 

Perhaps God didn’t hate him. If pleasure was a sin, then being miserable was godly. Credence didn’t believe there was anyone more miserable than himself in the world.

He woke with a start as he felt fingers on his cheek. He feared Mama, but as his vision cleared, he saw Constance’s soft red hair in the moonlight and her pretty, but bruised, face looking down at him. Her eyes were puffy. He could tell she’d been crying again. He was sure that she had never been hit like that before. Her mother may have given her a light pop or two on the cheek when she misbehaved, but never anything like what she had experienced today.

“Can I lay with you?” she asked softly before he could say anything.

“Wh-what?” he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.

“Can I lay with you?” she asked again and he stared at her with confusion, “I’m sorry...I just don’t want to be alone…”

Credence wanted to say yes. He’d imagined it several times. Having her next to him, the blanket warming them as they slowly removed their clothing, his fingers stroking her bare shoulders...it had excited him on several occasions. But not tonight. He was scared, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Mama might find out.”

“Please…” she pleaded, her eyes starting to water almost immediately, “I don’t want to be alone, Credence. Please hold me…”

His chest and stomach tightened. He couldn’t make himself look away from her, “...We can’t fall asleep.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

He scooted back on the bed, making room for her to climb in. She groaned a little in pain as she climbed next to him and settled down on her side. They were nearly nose to nose in the small bed. Credence had imagined this, but now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do. Fantasies seemed so much easier and less painful. Luckily, Constance seemed to know better what to do. She reached over and took his hand and brought it around her waist. Likewise, she drapped hers over his shoulder.

Even with the pain, it felt nice. Her body was warm and soft. Her hand made it’s way to his cheek and stroked it lightly. He always enjoyed that. He locked his eyes on hers and leaned in to touch their foreheads together, “I’m so sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself for what she did.”

“She knows. I know she does. She has to. That’s why she went looking.”

Her breath hitched a little, “No. It doesn’t matter if she knows. She’s the one who did this. We didn’t ask for it. We didn’t do anything wrong, Credence.”

“We kissed. It was wrong. We’re not married,” what they were doing now was just as, if not more so, worse. Their bodies were so close now.

“It wasn’t wrong,” her fingers started moving away from his face, but he leaned back into the touch, “Kiss me. Right now. Please,” he hesitated, “Please…” her eyes were watery again. She was going to start crying. If she cried, Chastity would hear and tell Mama. They’d be dead if Mama found out they were in bed together. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispered as he reached up to touch the bruise on her cheek. She winced a little, but didn’t pull away. He leaned over a bit and pressed their lips together. It wasn’t the same as their other kisses. It wasn’t soft, warm, or comforting. Instead, it was needy. They kissed hard and fast. His hand went back to her waist and he pulled her closer as their lips moved feverishly. It helped to make the pain his body feel a little better, “Constance…” he groaned as their lips parted for a moment.

“Don’t stop…” she urged as she pressed her body flush up against his. He didn’t want to stop. His body felt hot. He groaned as she raised one of her legs and slid it along his. It felt wonderful. Her barefoot dragged along his leg, pushing up his nightshirt as he clutched her nightgown tightly, “Touch me, Credence,” she moaned out softly, “Please.”

Oh he wanted to. He’d imagined all sorts of things he could do to her, but he didn’t understand how to do any of it, “I don’t know how.”

He felt her lips smile against his as she reached down and touched his hand, “Like this…” she pulled his hand along her hip and up towards her chest. He didn’t release her nightgown till it had pulled up to her waist. His fingers dragged along the curve of her chest till she brought it to rest over her breast. He sucked in a breath sharply as he felt the shape of it. It was heavier than he’d thought it would be. Her nipple was hard, pressing against his palm through the thin fabric of her nightgown.

His head was swimming. Her body felt so good and right now, it was his, “Have you done this before?” he didn’t know why he asked it. He’d been able to come to terms with knowing he wasn’t the first boy she’d kissed, but he wasn’t sure he could handle this if it wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“I haven’t,” to which he almost sighed in relief.

He took her lips again. Kissing more eagerly as his fingers curled around her soft breast. Even as pain shot through his body as he slid his leg between hers, letting her leg curl around his hip to further close any space between them, he felt a warm stirring between his thighs again.

The last time they went to the park, they had kissed for quite a bit and by the time they got up to leave, he had been very aroused. He’d done his best to not draw attention to it. Every step he took made his pants and underwear rub against it. Her hand on his arm and watching her didn’t help. She tripped and he grabbed her, pulling her close for just a moment till she got her footing again. It made him finish in his pants. Luckily, they were black and it was rainy out again. While he was embarrassed, at least no one could tell that the wet spot on his pants was from his own shame, rather than the weather.

Constance gasped, but not in pain this time. Her voice was warm, soft, and needy. Part of him knew that if there had been another boy here close to her age, that it could have just as easily been him doing this with her. She had needed someone to latch onto and he had been her only target. She didn’t want him because it was him. She wanted him because she had no other options. It was easy to make himself believe it, not that it stopped him.

He realized that her hips were moving. Very gently. They moved lightly against his leg. He could feel how warm she was. He’d never imagined that women touched themselves. Even if they did, he couldn’t think of how or what they would do. Did women get pleasure the same way he felt when he did it to himself? 

“What’re you doing?” he wanted to hit himself for asking. Why did he have to ask questions? What if she stopped and wouldn’t do it again? Credence hated himself every time he opened his mouth, “Your hips…”

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel her face getting warmer, “I...I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking…”

“No. Don’t stop,” he said softly. He realized when she stopped doing that, then her leg that was between his stopped moving. 

It started slow. Her hips moved gently and he felt her knee nudge up against his underwear covered length. He knew she was bare under her nightgown. As she moved, her hips slid along the top of his leg. The position had moved his nightshirt up and he realized that her bare womanhood was touching his leg. It brought a searing hot warmth to his face. It felt warm and a little wet. Credence wondered what it looked like. He’d never seen a naked woman before. 

Her fingers stroked the back of his neck as they began kissing again. He even managed to move his hips a bit, despite the pain it caused. He clutched her breast tighter and she moaned loudly. He couldn’t help but groan back as she hiked her knee up a little higher. He felt himself twitch and throb against her leg. Her own hips lowered a little, pressing harder against his thigh as she rubbed against it. Her breaths were coming quicker and her body was shaking a bit.

“Oh Credence,” she cooed his name before kissing him hard again. 

He’d never felt anything like this before. It was incredible. If it wasn’t for the pain in his backside, it would have been perfect. Did it count as pleasing himself if he was rubbing on her leg and not into his own hand? It wasn’t sex either. He didn’t know what this was, but it felt wonderful. Would God see it as wrong if they were still virgins? 

She gasped loudly and her fingers clenched onto his shoulders hard. He felt a wetness growing on his thigh, coming from her body. He thought, for a moment, that she might have soiled herself in some way. But she sounded so happy. Did women finish in a similar way to men? Credence had no way of knowing. But her hips continued to twitch for a moment or two before she relaxed.

Even though she stopped, he continued moving against her. He wanted to release, to finish. It didn’t take much longer. Her fingers went back to his cheeks and her lips pecked against his. She said his name softly and he felt his member throb it’s release against her thigh. He was a little embarrassed about it, but the moment he released, all the pain went away for a minute. 

They both whimpered softly for a moment or two before looking in each others eyes, “That felt wonderful…” he whispered, “...Constance, I…”

“Shhhh,” she brought her finger to his lips to stop him, “We’re not going to talk about it right now,” which was a first. Usually she wanted to talk about everything before they did it. She was giving him permission to not have to discuss it for once. Instead, she laid her head down against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her tight and pulled her close. Credence didn’t want to let go.


	8. Chapter 8

“But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God's holy people.”

The voice woke them both up quick. Their bodies were still tangled up with each others. Her head on his chest and her nightgown hiked high up around her hips. Her bare legs exposed to the room. His chin had been resting on her head and his arms around her waist. She was holding him tight around the middle of his torso. Despite the pain, it had been the best night sleep he could remember.

They both cried out as belt came down over both their hips. Credence jolted up and Constance huddled against him as they saw Mama standing over the bed. 

“Sinners! Dirty, filthy, Sinners!” she shouted, “For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God!” she was reciting the verses he knew so well. It was likely that he could recite nearly the entire bible from memory.

The belt came down again, hitting her back and making her cry out as she scrambled to get towards the wall with him, “Stop!” she shouted, but Mama didn’t listen. Didn’t care.

“But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh!” the belt hit his legs as he tried to get out of the bed.

“Ma!”

“Horrible child! Whore! I took you into my home and this is how you repay me? By corrupting my child!” even though she never let Credence call her his mother. Mama had got them all when they were young. While he was her trouble child, she still saw him as a devout child. Constance was the only one who had spent her childhood with a real family. He was sure she saw Constance as some devil whore who had tricked her way into the house to lead her children astray, “Everyone who makes a practice of sinning also practices lawlessness; sin is lawlessness!”

Mama swiped for Constance, but she managed to fall out of the bed and out of the way. She crawled her way out of Mama’s reach, but it didn’t matter. She went for Credence, who was still close enough. She grabbed his hair much the same way she had Constance the day before, “Filthy boy! Laying with a whore!”

“I’m sorry!” he sobbed loudly as she pulled him from the bed and started dragging him towards the railing.

“I raised you better than this! Putting yourself inside a devil woman!”

He half stumbled, half crawled as she dragged him out of the room. Chastity was there again. Watching with stony eyes. No doubt she had run to Mama when she woke and realized that Constance wasn’t in her own bed. After the beating he received the day before, he didn’t think he could cry anymore, but somehow new, hot tears were running down his face as Mama threw him down, “Please! I’m sorry! We didn’t sin!” he tried to defend what they had done.

“Don’t lie to me! You sleep with a whore and then lie to me! Ungrateful boy! If it weren’t for me, you would have been dead!” she never let him forget that after his parents had been found dead, he was nearly dead himself. Having been locked in a room and nearly starved to death and unable to get out on his own. Mama was the one that found him. She’d come to the apartment handing out leaflets with a young Chastity. They heard him crying inside and went for help. He owed her his life. Or so he’d always been told. Credence remembered nothing.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” it was the only thing he could think of to say. What else was there to say? How much better was the truth? Was pleasuring himself against her leg and groping her breast really any better than giving away his virginity? Would Mama even care? They’d used their bodies inappropriately. That’s all she would see.

She grabbed him roughly by the collar of his nightshirt and forced him up onto his knees and his hands onto the railing. No backside whipping today. No. She had done that and it had apparently not done what she wanted. She was going to lash him. It wouldn’t be the first time. His shoulders had several scars from the last time.

He whimpered and lowered his head, “Count to three!” she ordered and he shook his head hard, “Don’t defy me!” she brought the belt down on his shoulder and he cried out, “Count to three!”

“O-one…” he whimpered, “Two…” he felt his body tense up, “Three...Ah!” the belt came down on his shoulder again, “One...Two...Three...Ah!” and again. She wanted him to know when it was going to happen. To know when his punishment was happening, “O-one..tw-two..t-t-three...Ah!” he could feel the leather cutting through his nightshirt and into his flesh. He could feel the first few, small streams of blood rolling down his back and wetting his shirt.

“Leave him alone!” it was Constance’s voice. 

“Mama!” Chastity called out.

Credence turned his head in time to see her running at Mama. Her eyes were streaming with tears as she ran at the woman. He moved quickly to avoid the belt as it came down again. Mama turned to see the red haired girl coming at her. 

It happened too fast for him to do anything about it. He felt a sharp pain run through his body as if something were urging him to stop it, but he couldn’t let it out. It was heavy and it felt like it was churning inside of him, begging to get out, but he couldn’t let it. He had to keep it back. Instead, he had to watch as Constance grabbed for the belt and Mama yanked it back.

Constance fell into the railing and the old wood snapped under the weight of her body. The scream was sharp and high with shock as she went over the edge. Chastity screamed and Mama gasped loudly, “Constance!” he shouted as he scrambled for the broken railing and peered over the edge.

She was laying across the top of the pews, several had broken under her weight and due to old age. Her red hair was sprawled out and he saw red staining the front of her nightgown, “Constance!” she didn’t move.

“Keep Modesty in her room!” Mama ordered Chastity and the girl hesitated, staring at the broken railing in shock, “Chastity! Now!”

“Yes, Mama…” she ran off towards the youngest’s room.

Credence stared over the railing down at the lifeless body, “Constance…” he said her name more softly before getting up quick and running for the stairs. He took them two at a time as he went down and rushed over to her. Her eyes were wide open and staring at him, but they were cold and lifeless. A slow drip of blood came from the corner of her mouth and her pale neck had a large bulge coming out the side of it. Her body was awkwardly hung over several broken pews, “C-constance…” he touched her bruised cheek. It felt colder, “P-Please...please say something…” he whispered as he tried to pull her off the pews, but her body tangled around pieces of broken wood. 

“Let her go, Credence,” it was Mama’s voice, “Go clean up and get dressed.”

“No!” he snapped as he finally managed to haul her off the pews and into his arms. Her body was heavy and limp. Her head rolled to the side and there was a sickening sound of bones grinding against each other. 

Mama grabbed him from behind, hauling him back by his collar, forcing him to drop her body. It hit the floor with a thud and he whimpered, “I said, go get cleaned up and dressed. Now.”

Slowly, he started moving towards the stairs again, his eyes were on Constance’s body. At least till Mama grabbed one of the tablecloths and threw it over her broken and dead form. Hiding it from sight. She then closed up her house robe and started for the door.

By the time he was done cleaning his new wounds and had his day clothes on, he was mostly moving on autopilot. He didn’t want to believe it had happened. Part of him was sure if he went to his little peephole and looked through it, he would see her and Chastity putting their hair up for the day. That in just a few minutes, they would all be sitting at the table and eating their toast after breakfast prayer. Her foot would touch his ankle under the table and he would try not to let it show on his face how happy he was. 

Instead, he walked out of his room and saw pieces of the railing laying in front of his door. As he walked down the stairs, he saw the broken pews and the lump of cloth where her body was laying. Chastity was down there with Mama. There were police with them. His whole body felt numb. He couldn’t even feel his feet as he walked, “She attacked me and fell,” he heard Mama say.

“I saw it. She ran at Mama and the railing gave away when she fell. Mama tried to stop her from falling,” Chastity confirmed.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth. He was sure if Constance had managed to get ahold of Mama, she would have hit her. But she had only done it to try to stop him from being beaten again. He was sure once Mama was done with him, she would have turned on Constance anyway. It had been self defense, “Wh-what?”

Everyone turned to look at him, “What’s that, Boy?” one of the officers asked him. Mama’s eyes narrowed and he felt a shiver go down his spine. The first thing he’d felt since he started cleaning his wounds.

“She...she fell because…”

“Because she attacked me. Isn’t that right, Credence? The poor boy is so twisted up about it. Her mother had been a whore and I took her in. She toyed with him something fierce.”

“That’s not...no...I…”

“Tell us what happened, Boy. Did she try to attack your Ma and fall?”

“Y-yes...but…”

They didn’t let him talk. Chastity came over and sank her little fingernails into his arm as she pulled him towards the kitchen, “He’s shook up about it. I’ll make him some tea.”

He nearly fell into the chair at the table as Chastity moved about the kitchen to get their breakfast tea and toast ready. He heard someone say to get the coroner and have the body taken away as soon as possible. Mama thanked them for the assistance before coming into the kitchen. She sat down across from him and folded her hands on the table, “Credence? Are you listening to me?”

He was silent, but only till she reached across and slapped him hard, “Listen to me, Boy,” he reached up and touched his hot cheek, “That whore snaked her way into our home. Who knows how many people she poisoned against us. She toyed with you. You don’t think she really cared, do you? I’m the only one who cares about you. Do you understand?”

His lower lip trembled, “Y-yes, Ma’am.”

What difference did it make if he understood or not? It wouldn’t make Constance any less dead if he didn’t understand. She was really dead. It sat in his stomach. Heavy. Like cold, dead metal. He could see her eyes looking at him. Not just her warm, soft eyes as they kissed and touched in his bed; but her cold, dead eyes. They were staring straight into him. 

He could have saved her. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he could have. If he had just let go of that swirling pain that bubbled up inside of him on occasion, he knew he could have saved her. Stopped her fall or caught her before she tripped past Mama. Some part of his mind was telling him that he could have done it. No matter how impossible it seemed.

“Good. Now go clean up the mess. We’ll have to get donations for new pews. It’s not going to be easy,” Mama would find a way.

“Yea, Ma’am,” it was all he could seem to think of to say. Any other words were lost on him as he climbed back to his feet and headed out to the main room. His eyes fixated on the broken pews. He stood there, unmoving for a long time. 

As slow as possible, he started to pick up pieces of broken wood. His mind going blank as tears streamed down his face. He didn’t even sob openly like he usually did. He just ignored the pain searing through his body and the splinters going into his fingers from the wood.

He’d never felt so dead before in his life.


	9. Chapter 9

He kicked a newspaper off his shoe. The heading marking the new year didn’t matter to him. What did it matter if it was 1923 or 1926?

It didn’t matter if Mama beat him. He’d managed to get out of the house after midnight without drawing to attention to himself. He walked quietly till he reached the park where they had spent their first afternoon together. That had been years ago. It seemed so strange that he had known her for less than three months. It felt like so much longer when he looked back on it.

He sat down on the bench and looked around. It didn’t look too different in the dark. The only difference was the lack of people. No kids running around or people pretending to feed ducks and squirrels. It was quiet.

She had been gone for nearly three years.

Mama, Chastity, and Modesty acted as if she never existed. They didn’t speak about her. If anyone asked about her, they pretended not to hear. Mama had the extra bed in Chastity’s room removed. He managed to save the box with her dress in it and hid it away under his own bed. The lipstick was gone, but only because Mama had thrown it away after finding it. Sad as it was, he’d taken her dress out sometimes and held it and cried into it at night. 

He moved day to day without a thought in his mind. It was just all numb and cold all the time. 

His eyes looked around slowly. He saw the building that she had said was where she lived before Mama adopted her. He thought about her feeding him candy while they sat here. Letting him taste it first and looking so happy that he liked it. Her convincing him to talk to her so that he could kiss her. Her warm hands holding his and her head resting on his shoulder as she talked. It was even nicer when they kissed. He came here at least once a month. Unable to move on from it.

He missed it so much already.

It had given him a glimpse of a life he wanted so badly. 

That was all gone now though.

It hurt so much. He couldn’t stand it. 

HIs eyes watered a little and he reached up to wipe away the tears, “No one allowed in the park after dark. Get out of here, Boy.”

His head shot up and he saw the police officer. Anger bubbled in his blood. He knew the man’s face. It was the one who had taken his statement about her death. About how she had ‘attacked’ Mama. It wasn’t the man’s fault she was dead. He hadn’t been the one to let her fall. 

But he was the one that let Mama get away with it.

“You’re that Second Salem Boy, aren’t you? I remember you. You’re the one that slept with the whore who broke her neck.”

“She...She…” he felt his stomach tighten, “She wasn’t a whore. I didn’t sleep with her,” well, he did. They had fallen asleep together. Holding each other. He’d thought about that night so many times.

“Ssssure. And I bet her mother wasn’t a whore either. Go on and get home, Boy. Before I tell your Ma.”

“She’s...She’s not my Ma…” that’s what she was always telling him, right?

“Go on. Git,” he snapped.

Credence wasn’t sure what happened. Everything just went blank and when he opened his eyes, he was home. He didn’t remember walking back. Maybe the officer had brought him home? He wasn’t entirely sure. He supposed it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered. He quietly moved into the house and up to his room, ignoring the sound of fire sirens in the distance.

His body felt tired and sore. All he wanted to do was lay down and sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Credence couldn’t stand it anymore. The swirling feeling that was always in the back of his mind. The constant thoughts of Constance. The feel of the belt on his hands, shoulders, and backside. The strain of carrying the soup pot back and forth from the kitchen. The whispers from the congregation about his sleeping with a whore. The word ‘freak’ floating into his ears as he passed by people.

He had to get away from it all.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t have an education beyond what Mama taught him. He would rather live on the streets than to stay with Mama anymore.

He waited till Mama and Chastity were fast asleep before stuffing a pillow case with her dress, his box of newspaper clippings, and a change of cloths. A lack of money wasn’t going to stop him either. He’d just start walking and wouldn’t stop till he couldn’t walk anymore. Mama wouldn’t find him again. Credence’s shoes padded softly on the ground as he started down the sidewalk. By the time Mama realized he was gone, it would be too late to find him. He’d rather die than come back.

He was scared, but he had given up caring a long time ago. 

He had imagined many times what his life would have been like if Constance were still alive. They would have run away together. Got married. He would have got a job at one of the factories. Done honest, hard work. Just so he could come home and see her smiling at him. Mama would never have been able to hurt their of them again. 

As it was, he would just have to do it on his own. Being alone, but on his own was better than just being alone in that house.

Turning down an alley way, he had his eyes on the ground when a wind rushed past him. He paid it no mind till he heard footsteps, “I...I don’t have money…” he wasn’t stupid enough to think he couldn’t be mugged.

“I don’t want money,” the voice was smooth and masculine. He turned to see a rather tall man with slick, black hair, just barely greyed on the sides. His coat was fashionable and expensive. As was the suit he wore under it and the grey scarf. His face was sharp and strong. He was a fairly imposing man, but he didn’t look like some common mugger.

“P-Please leave me alone…”

“Your name is Credence, isn’t it? Credence Barebone?”

He gripped his pillow case tightly, “Y-yes.”

“Running away?”

His eyes went to the ground and he took a step back from the man, “I won’t go back there. You can’t make me,” he’d never seen this man before, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a supporter.

“I know what she does to you, Credence. I’m sorry you have to live that way. I’m also sorry to say that I do have to ask you to go back.”

“...I won’t. You’ll have to kill me. You can’t make me,” his head felt fuzzy for a moment. He feared he would black out. It had been happening occasionally.

“I’m afraid I can, Credence,” the man stepped towards him again and he backed up into the wall, clutching his pillow case to his chest, “My name is Mr. Graves, Credence. I have something I need to ask of you. I know it won’t be easy, but you’re the only one that can help me.”

“I don’t want to help anyone,” he wanted to be alone. Why couldn’t people just leave him be?

“Yes you do, Credence. You’re special and that’s why I know you’ll help me. You’ll help me for her, won’t you?” he narrowed his eyes a bit, “I know what that woman does to you. I know what she did to Constance. She was just trying to help you, because she loved you, Credence.”

He stared wide eyed as the man got close to him, “Leave me alone…”

“I want to help you, Credence. Let me see your hand…”

Mama had beat him this morning. Slapped his hands for having broken a dish during the prior night dinner. They were still raw and he was sure his pillow case was bloodied from holding it so tightly. Hesitantly, he reached it out. The wounds had reopened, but they weren’t as bad as they were this morning, “Please don’t hurt me,” he whimpered softly.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Credence,” the man said his name a lot. So few people said his name, “I want to help you and in return, you will help me. I want to give you a better life,” the imposing man named Graves reached out and stroked his fingers along the cuts. He inhaled sharply as the marks disappeared.

“H-how...How did you...do that?” he stared in amazement at his palm. There were still scars a plenty, but the new marks healed and disappeared instantly. He’d never seen anything like it before.

“Magic, Credence. Magic. I can teach you to do it too.”

“Y-you can?” 

“Oh yes, but you must do something for me first. I need you help finding a child, Credence. They belong to the Second Salem. I saw them in a vision. With you and your Mother.”

He wasn’t the most intelligent man in the world, but even he knew when to ask a question, “Why?”

“They are in danger, Credence. They can be taught magic, like you, but someone is going to hurt them. I need to save them. Just as I need to save you, but you’re the only one that can find them. I’ve tried on my own, but in every vision I just see them close to you and your Mother.”

“We-we have a lot of children come in for meals.”

“One of them is special, Credence. Like you.”

He was still looking at his hand, as if he were waiting for the wounds to reopen, but they didn’t, “What kind of things can you do?” his mind immediately went to Constance. If Mr. Graves could heal his wound, what else could he do. He’d said he’d know what happened to her, “Can you bring Constance back? Can you bring her back for me?”

The look in Mr. Graves face was one he’d seen before. It was pity, “Yes. We can bring her back. I can teach you to bring her back. When you have her back, you’ll be able to tell her how brave you were. That you helped another child, that you’re special, that you learned how to bring her back so you could be together.”

He knew his face must have been lit up. For the first time in years, he felt something. It was hope, “You mean it?”

“I do, Credence,” the man reached out and touched his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Other than his punishments, he hadn’t been touched since Constance was alive. This man. This Mr. Graves. He was strong and powerful. Everything Credence wished he was, “I just need your help first. Will you help me, Credence?”

His eyes opened slowly as the man tried to pull his hand away, but he leaned into it. Mr. Graves moved closer to him and wrapped his arms around him. Hugging him gently and he nearly collapsed. He was so tired. Tired of trying. 

“Will you help me, Credence? You’re the only one I can trust.”

Words he’d never heard before. Even Constance had never said she trusted him. Not because she didn’t, but they had known each other for such a short time. There had been nothing to bring it up about, “Yes, Mr. Graves. Yes. I’ll help you.”

“Good. I’m depending on you, Credence.”

Credence couldn’t have imagined anything could have made him go back home to Mama, but Mr. Graves had touched on it. In such a short time, he felt like Mr. Graves was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had. More than that. A friend. Someone who needed him, “I won’t disappoint you, Mr. Graves. I promise.”

“Good. Now let's get you home…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering doing a second story for a sort of 'aftermath'. Haven't decided yet. Anyway, thank you all for reading! I always appreciate it!
> 
> -Toad


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